Curacao

Curacao Wednesday morning we set the sails again and entered the Spanish (Spaanse) Waters on Curacao early afternoon. The entrance is picturesque, inside the sea is spreading into many bays, but the entrance is to narrow for the water to flow enough. So there is no swimming there. Many boats are anchored in the designated areas only, leaving room for regattas of all categories, windsurfing and kite surfing. We took the bus to Willemstad, the Capital, that caters cruise ships with to many shops, but also has an interesting floating market of fruits and vegetables. The city is built in Dutch style, it is charming in pastel and rich bright colors. It is divided into two parts with the canal and connected with three bridges and a ferry boat, when the pontoon bridge is open for the sea traffic. Touring the island was like going into the forgotten land. Forgotten from people, fortunate to live in Willemstad, forgotten from politicians, that are looking at us from the boards along the road. Curacao is a desert island with tall cacti competing for water with thorny brush. Plastic bags and papers caught on thorns stay there, discarded bottles and cans will burden the next generation’s love for their country. Modest homes scattered, one with a rusty swing in front, very few surrounded with flowering bushes. Oases in this sad land were the aloe plantation and the ostrich farm. We took an interesting tour there, but most fascinating was the shop with crafts from Zimbabwe, where the owner of the farm originated from. Back to Klein Curacao We left Spaanse Waters Saturday at the day break and try to sail for a few hours. It is a short distance, but sailing East means fighting head on wind, waves and the current. We gave up and motored the rest of the way to Klein Curacao. On Sunday the beach there came alive. Music filled up the air, from visiting boats coolers were dragged under the umbrellas. By late afternoon everything was quiet again. When we got up on Monday, the stars were still bright. We left the anchorage early to arrive to Bonaire before the sundown. The wind was favoring us and we made it close to the island without tacking. The last few NM we motor sailed to the mooring, where we will stay another week.

Down the Wind

Klein Curacao lays 28 NM West of Bonaire, an easy sail down the wind. You can’t see the island until you are close, charming lighthouse and a shipwreck, a warning for sailors, are the first signs of the small uninhibited piece of land. It’s white sand beach on the West side attract tourists from Curacao only 13 NM away. Sundays and Saturdays the beach fills up with bodies. We anchored in front of the beach and were shortly after visited by Curacao Coast Guards. They took a lot of pictures of our boat, but didn’t search it. They were friendly, laughed at the boat’s name Nada and were puzzled , when they heard my name. ‘Nothing’, one said, looking at me. Klein Curacao is the island, I would like to have in my dreams. There is a building, that used to host a restaurant. Now it serves the weekend visitors from Curacao. The beach umbrellas, weaved out of the palm leaves, are resisting strong East winds. The island is so low, we are watching the foams splashing over the rocks on the other side. I dream in colours. Turquoise surrounds the island and when the sun is playing with the waves, it is sending the reflections to the white sand on the bottom. I want to touch them with my feet, the water seems shallow, it is so clear. But I can not reach the sand and catch the moving reflections. So I relax my body on waves and close my eyes. This is another moment in life I want to keep in my memory.

Impressions: Tennis on Bonaire

The tennis club is a minute walk from the marina and a very nice Dutch lady Elisabeth is running it. We met her three years ago, the last time we were on the island, and she included us into the tennis group. There are four courts, two are good and two have cracks just like our playing. If we were wise, we would play early. We are not. We start after nine and by eleven, the sun is melting us. The Caribbean grape vine, planted around the courts, is blocking the wind, which is good for playing, but bad for our hot bodies. It also provides home for green parakeets with yellow caps and orange picks. While we are playing, they are loudly settling their affairs. They are waiting for the grape berries to ripen, but have a competition. Bonaire women pick the berries also and make jelly out of them. Some day we’ll have to come here in early summer and pick berries ourselves. Sometimes we play in the afternoon with our Bonaire friends. In two sets we could only win three games against Trudy and Kelly. ‘Next time’, we promised them. Next time what?

A Moment

The morning is awakening, lights loosing the shine into the brightness of the day. First runners appear on the walkway along the shore, beautifully paved with the red brick. With not much wind the sea is rolling, the movement of the boat in accordance with the voice of Maria Callas, streaming from my CD player. Birds are diving into the water to catch their breakfast, pelican being the noisiest with it’s big wings. Life goes by fast, but capture a moment of it and keep it in your memory and it will be yours forever. One moment of this peaceful morning is worth a lifetime of living. The sun is rising, a new day arrived.

Bonaire Impressions

Bonaire Impressions Bonaire has not change much since we left it in winter of 2007. More traffic, of course and a few new buildings. Even those are built in the old Dutch style, front wall at the roof extended into a small rectangle, that served for hauling the furniture into the upper levels of the narrow houses. Now it is mostly for decorating and traditional reasons. Still, there is no rule of style in Bonaire’s architecture. Some buildings are very contemporary and some seems to be built with whatever residents could find. The island is untidy, which indicates curtain freedom, and messy with no regulations about the debris removal from demolished buildings. Don’t misunderstand me! Bonaire is charming with its cacti landscape, flamingoes, wild donkeys, about 200 varieties of birds, and the water so clear like anywhere else. Food supply is good, you can get any Dutch cheese your heart desires, or if you prefer, island’s young goat cheese, vegetables and fruits from Venezuela’s farmers, and even French baguettes. Here are many restaurants to choose from, serving goat dishes, steaks or fish, caught in the distant vicinity of the island. Fishing between the capital Kralendijk and Klein Bonaire, a small island protecting the town shores from high seas, is prohibited. It is a spawning area for some fish varieties. Even if that wasn’t so, how can you eat a fish caught from the aquarium? When snorkeling, you feel like you are in one, fish of all colours and shapes parading among corals. Population of 15000 is diverse, a mixture of Dutch, Spanish, English, and Portuguese Jews from Brazil migrated here, eliminating the original inhabitants of Armenian Indians. Bonaire also has a strong community of Peru Indians, who brought their rich craftwork to the Island. Newcomers from Europe and the States are buying property here to get away from cold. We met a Slovenian family, who bought a house on the rocky shore near Kralendijk. Together we drove through the forest of cacti to the center of Bonaire, where natives prepared a meal of stewed goat meat with polenta. Polde complained, that this blog is boring. Why not, you be the judge: The Bonaire temperatures: Monday: day 86F night 79F Tuesday: day 86F night 79F Wednesday: day 86F night 79F Thursday: day 86F night 79F Friday: day 86F night 79F Saturday: day 86F night 79F Sunday: day 86F night 79F And sunsets look all the same (view the photo)